iPod Shuffle Challenge: Hannah Montana
by Veritas Found
Summary: 6/24 ficlets written for a multi-fandom response to the iPod Shuffle Challenge.
1. The Driveway

**Series:** iPod Shuffle Challenge

**Fandom:** Hannah Montana

**Character / Pairing Focus:** Jake Ryan x Miley Stewart

**Rating:** K Plus / PG / All Ages

**Notes:** Set shortly after 02x18 ("That's What Friends are For?").

**Disclaimer:** _Hannah Montana_ and all respective properties are © Disney Inc. Megan D. (Veritas Found) does not, has never, nor will ever own _Hannah Montana_.

_**The Driveway (performed by Miley Cyrus)**_

_You know, nothing hurts like losing when you know it's really gone_

_Except for the pain of choosing to hold too long_

_I tried it your way, and I got nothin' to show_

_It's been the same, same, and the story's getting old_

_So I guess the driveway will be the end of the road_

_For us it's too late – let the credits start to roll_

It was much later, while up in her room, that she fully started to process the events of the day. Locking Mikayla out of the studio. Nearly blowing Jake's career. The subsequent screaming match, followed by the truce. Friends, but…well, friends. Nothing more, nothing less – no matter how much they wanted it different.

He had to grow up – and he was getting there. Today just showed them he wasn't the only one.

But it wasn't fair, dang it! They tried, and they tried, and every time there was another girl, or Romania, or his super ego, or her jealous streak, or…it was a crushing thought, the idea that they just might never work out. She had to hold onto the hope that maybe they would, someday in the future, but now…right now, in that very moment while she reflected on everything that had happened, it was hard to believe they really would. Her hand began to absently strum the guitar in her lap as she stared out her window, and without even realizing it a gentle tune slipped past her lips – one that, it felt, had become the anthem of her relationship with Jake Ryan.

"In the end we'd be laughing, watching the sunset fade to black, show the names, play the happy song…" she sang, stopping as she choked on the last word. There was no happy song, not for them. Not "If We Were A Movie", not "One In A Million"…there just wasn't a song that could fully encompass what they were and are and probably would always be: just shy of perfect. It was the kind of relationship you clung to, desperate to make it work even when you knew it wouldn't – desperate to hold on too long after you knew it was so clearly over. Broken. Like. . .

She started strumming again, her eyes frowning as the words tossed in her mind.

"You know, nothing hurts like losing when you know it's really gone – except for the pain of choosing to hold too long," she sang in a wobbly tone, and her lips pursed as she reached to a drawer by the seat and pulled out an old journal she kept special for songwriting. The lines were down in a matter of moments, and as she looked out her window to the winding driveway beneath her home she continued strumming and writing, playing with her tune until – half an hour later – she had a new song.

She paused, looking over the lyrics as her hand rested on the strings. Without another thought, she grabbed the notebook and her guitar and left the room, calling for her dad.

– W –

"You're not gonna like this, Mikayla," Jake's head turned at the voice, eyebrow quirking as Mikayla's manager walked up to them with an iPod in hand. Mikayla rolled her eyes and gave Margo a pointed look, one that clearly read 'back off'.

"_What?_" she snapped, but Margo just passed her the earbuds. She gave him an apologetic look before her face scrunched in confusion, all the while shoving the tiny buds in her ears. "Sorry, Jakey – this'll just be a sec. What is it, Margo?"

"It's Hannah Montana's new song," Margo said, and his eyes widened as the script he'd been reading from dropped from his hands to his lap. "And it's _good_ – better than…"

She stopped at the acidic look Mikayla shot her, shrugging the thought off with a tip of her head. He reached over and pulled one of the earbuds from her, holding it up to his ear with a curious look.

"Jake!" Mikayla whined, and he shrugged.

"What? Hannah's a friend, and I'm interested," he said. She rolled her eyes and looked away, biting back a scathing remark he knew she had lined up towards his old flame. His eyes widened as he heard the pained voice in the song, his heart shattering as he took in the words.

"_It's been the same, same, and the story's getting old. So I guess the driveway will be the end of the road. For us it's too late – let the credits start to roll,"_ he heard her sing, gulping down a breath as each word needled into him. He jumped when Mikayla ganked the earbud from him, handing the player back to Margo.

"It's just another whiney little hissy fit song about…" she started, and then paused as a frown took over her face. "She's…never done that kind of song before. Wonder who hurt her enough to change her style?"

"Can we finish this later?" he asked, looking to her as she picked her script back up. She frowned, ready to question him, but he shook his head. "Like I said – Hannah's a friend. I…I need to call her."

"Jake!" he heard her call after him, but he didn't care. Back in his trailer, he pulled out his phone and dropped into a chair, finger hovering over the speed dial he hadn't been able to reset in three months. With a breath to steel himself, he hit the number and held the phone to his ear.

"…hello?" her voice was hesitant when she finally answered, and – though he knew she couldn't see him – he smiled.

"Hey, Miley – it's Jake," he said, then rolled his eyes at how lame that had to sound. Of course she'd know it was him – she never answered without checking the caller ID.

"Yeah," she said, and he winced. "Soooo…long time no see."

"I heard your new song today," he said, then winced again as he considered kicking himself for his blunt approach. She paused, and he heard her suck in a breath. "It was…wow. Good wow – it was good, but…Miley, was…"

"Was it about you?" she asked, and his silence spoke volumes. He heard her sigh, and in his mind he could see her sitting heavily in one of the chairs on her deck. He saw her hand shove through that unruly mess of curls, saw the pain flood her face. He knew her too well, and maybe that's what killed him so much. "What gave it away?"

"'Let the credits start to roll'," he recited, and he could almost hear the small smile he knew would be quirking her lips. "Last song mentioning credits with a relationship was…"

"Fade to black, show the names, play the happy song," she said, and he smiled, albeit painfully. "Practically our song."

"I'm sorry, Miley," he said, and somehow he knew she believed him. "Does that mean…I know…we're really over, aren't we? For good?"

"Maybe – I don't know, Jake," she said, and he frowned. "For now? We both made it all too clear. But someday? Maybe. I love you, Jake – I still do. It's just…"

"We never seem to work?" he asked, and she laughed – watery, like she was crying. He hated himself for that. "So…someday?"

"Maybe," she said, and he smiled.

"I'm good with that," he said, and she laughed again. "I am sorry, Miley."

"You're not the one who needed to apologize this time, remember?" she said, and he smiled. "Look, I have to go – I'll be late for a concert if I don't hang up."

"Yeah, right – go, ok? Rock 'em out, Hannah," he said, grinning, and this time her laugh was smiling.

"You, too, Ryan," she said, and then she was gone. He looked at his phone, flashing the time used on the call, and smiled. He closed the phone, squeezing it slightly as he looked out the window. Someday. Someday.


	2. White Horse

**Series:** iPod Shuffle Challenge

**Fandom:** Hannah Montana

**Character / Pairing Focus:** Jake Ryan x Miley Stewart

**Rating:** K Plus / PG / All Ages

**Notes:** Set shortly after the Achey Jakey Heart eps.

**Disclaimer:** _Hannah Montana_ and all respective properties are © Disney Inc. Megan D. (Veritas Found) does not, has never, nor will ever own _Hannah Montana_.

_**White Horse (performed by Taylor Swift)**_

_Maybe I was naïve_

_Got lost in your eyes and never really had a chance_

_I had so many dreams about you and me_

_Happy endings, now I know…_

_I'm not a princess – this ain't a fairytale_

_I'm not the one you'll sweep off her feet, lead her up the stairwell_

_This ain't Hollywood – this is a small town_

_I was a dreamer before you went and let me down_

_Now it's too late for you and your white horse to come around_

The rose had immediately been placed on her bedside table, right next to the silver frame that held one of her few pictures – real pictures, not tabloid pictures – of them together. In the frame, placed so it wouldn't really block much of them, was the little card. Both meant worlds to her, but right now her mind wasn't really focusing on the relief of his promise to keep her secret. Right now, all she could really think on was how – and why – everything had gone so horribly wrong.

They were perfect together. They just fit; there was a connection there, something she hadn't felt with a guy before. Something she had fought so hard against, but something that – now that it was gone – she missed terribly. Something…something that was so wonderfully Jake, and he just had to go and ruin it all. He had to…

It hurt, thinking that the Jake she loved wasn't the Jake he really was. Or maybe it was that the Jake she loved had been too long suppressed by the Jake the world loved, and somewhere along the line he'd just disappeared. It meant something that he was going to try – for her – to be normal. It really did, but…

There's an innocence, a kind of wistful charm you lose after your first heartbreak. That's what she'd been told, and now she believed it all too well. And it hurt; it hurt to think that she had been too stupid to see through him, to see that whatever was between them was doomed from the start. That all those dreams, all those whims they had talked about so hopefully just a few days before could be so easily dashed into impossibilities. That…

Her phone went off, "If We Were A Movie" tinkling out cheerily against the black cloud of her depression. She shrank back from the phone, the tune slicing through her like blades. She had set it back when Jake…and then now…

She sighed, dropping her head in her hands as she curled in on herself. They weren't a movie, because in real life, the movies never come true – and the ones who play in the movies are nothing but self-centered egotistical jerks. Who may or may not have moments where they could be really, really sweet. Who may or may not be able to make you fall for them, to make you believe in happy endings and fairy tales, but…what they don't tell you, she's learned the hard way, is that the happy ending is always followed by an after. And the after? Never what you think – want – it to be. Their after was the stuff of monsters, of…Dr. Jekyll. Dr. Jekyll was their fairytale, in a twisted sort of way. In a Dr. Leslie, Mr. Jake sort of way, and now...

Maybe she was too optimistic, but there was a small part of her that just couldn't stop believing in him – in them. As she glanced over at the rose laying on her nightstand, that little part of her hoped that maybe, someday, Dr. Leslie would come back into her life. And then…maybe.

She had to have hope.


	3. Runaway

**Series:** iPod Shuffle Challenge

**Fandom:** Hannah Montana

**Character / Pairing Focus:** Jake Ryan x Miley Stewart

**Rating:** K Plus / PG / All Ages

**Notes:** Set years in the future – quite possibly post-series.

**Disclaimer:** _Hannah Montana_ and all respective properties are © Disney Inc. Megan D. (Veritas Found) does not, has never, nor will ever own _Hannah Montana_.

_**Runaway (performed by Avril Lavigne)**_

_And I feel so alive_

_I can't help myself – don't you realize?_

_I just wanna scream and lose control_

_Throw my hands up and let it go_

_Forget about everything and runaway, yeah_

_I just want to fall and lose myself_

_Laughing so hard it hurts like hell_

_Forget about everything and runaway, yeah_

In the morning, Robbie Ray Stewart would awaken to find a note from his nineteen-year-old daughter resting on her pillow where her head should be. He'd probably be furious, and he might even cry, and he'd definitely worry – but in the end, he'd smile because, in the end, he knew this day had only been a blink away.

Right now, Miley Rae Stewart was throwing a suitcase in the back of the candy apple red convertible parked in the front drive. It landed with a soft thud on top of the other suitcase, the one belonging to the driver, and – not bothering to even open the door – hopped into the front seat of the car. She looked over to the driver as he started the car, catching his eye as he glanced at her and smiled. She leaned over, reaching 'round to grasp the back of his head and pull him close enough to kiss. It was brief and ended in giddy giggles, neither teen quite able to believe they were really doing this, but it conveyed the thought they had both been hovering on since he had pulled up ten minutes before: _Finally._

He pulled out of the drive slowly, going as fast and loud as he dared in the late night-early morning street. She reached over, her hand snaking up his neck and under the black wig to toy with his sandy locks. He shot her a glance, and again they were both smiling, holding back the laughter they knew would give them away. At two AM, a week after her nineteenth birthday, Miley Rae Stewart drove off into the sunrise in a candy apple red vintage Mustang, her Zombie Slayer-in-disguise boyfriend behind the wheel. They had no plans other than getting out, nothing but the suitcases in the backseat and the small bundle of cash the teen stars had hidden in the glove box – but they had each other, and that, in the end, was all that really mattered.

Tomorrow, Robbie Ray Montana would address the media to inform them Hannah Montana was taking, after five long non-stop years, a well-deserved break. No, he didn't know when she'd restart her career. Yes, he was in full support of her decision. No, he didn't know where she was. No, he didn't really care.

At the same time, Jake Ryan's manager would be holding a similar press conference, telling the media the zombie-slaying star would also be taking a much-needed hiatus from Hollywood. When asked if this sudden hiatus had anything to do with Hannah Montana's disappearance, he'd just smile and say the two were very close friends.

And, about five hundred miles away at a gas station in Sedona, Milos Porter was tossing Miley Rae Stewart a pack of beef jerky as she watched the meter rise. He pulled her close and kissed her soundly, neither really caring to stop when the full tank clicked the pump off. As far as they were concerned, for now, Hannah Montana and Jake Ryan were long gone – just like them – into the sunset. And, truth be told, they couldn't be happier about it.


	4. Wishing

**Series:** iPod Shuffle Challenge

**Fandom:** Hannah Montana

**Character / Pairing Focus:** Jake Ryan x Miley Stewart

**Rating:** K Plus / PG / All Ages

**Notes:** Set during junior year (high school).

**Disclaimer:** _Hannah Montana_ and all respective properties are © Disney Inc. Megan D. (Veritas Found) does not, has never, nor will ever own _Hannah Montana_.

_**Wishing (performed by Sugarland)**_

_Anything that brings a little more comfort my way_

_But sometimes, there's those times it's gotta be you_

_I keep telling myself I'm moving on, but I'm stumbling_

_Believing my heart was strong enough, and now I'm wondering_

_With every step I take that leads me away just circles back to your door_

_Wishing I didn't love you anymore_

"So, Miley," Parker asked, leaning closer and waggling his brows at her in a flirty manner. She rolled her eyes, not really amused by the gesture. She looked back out to the beach, scanning the crowd around Rico's for Lilly and Oliver. They were already a good ten minutes late, leaving her at the hands of their slightly overzealous classmate for the duration. They so owed her for that. "How about it? You, me, Friday night, movie?"

She glanced back at him, her gray eyes narrowed slightly as she studied him. He looked cocky and yet desperate enough it could easily be dismissed as hopeful; he wanted her to say yes. She knew it, he knew it – heck, anyone who had been watching them probably knew it. And while she had every reason to say yes, every reason to want to date this prime catch of junior male, she found…well, she couldn't. Her mouth opened to agree, but the words got stuck somewhere between her heart and her throat, her mind turning to a sudden flash of shaggy blonde veiling the clearest blue. 'Sexy Blue Eyes', she'd heard Big Kenny say once. Though it wasn't towards the same person, she felt the sentiment matched perfectly.

"Parker, you're a great guy and everything, but…" she sighed, looking back to the mini-boardwalk that led to the beach. She still remembered pushing him off that railing all those years ago, after he'd told her was leaving for four (that had turned into six) months.

"You can't go out with me," Parker finished, smiling wistfully at her. He sighed, running a hand through his black hair, and followed her gaze to the rail. "You know, he's supposed to be back in town soon. You planning on meeting up with him?"

"What?" she asked, turning to him with wide eyes. He laughed, but the sound wasn't bitter.

"Face it, Miley: everyone who's been around since eighth grade knows the real reason you won't go out with me – or any other guy, for that matter. Your heart still belongs to Jake Ryan, doesn't it?" he asked, and she tried to ignore the blush she knew was staining her cheeks. He smiled, nodding. "Thought so."

"It's been two years since I've seen him, Parker. I _don't_ love him. Not anymore," she said petulantly. He laughed, shaking his head as he paid Jackson for his smoothie.

"Keep telling yourself that, Miley – you might actually believe it yet," he said. He nodded to Jackson before hopping off the stool and walking off, already scanning the beach for his next potential Friday Night Date. She rolled her eyes and spun around on her stool, burying her head in her arms on the counter. Jackson shook his head, making a 'tsk-tsk-tsk' noise as he wiped the counter down.

"You want my opinion, Miles?" he asked, and she glanced up to settle a glare on him.

"Do I ever?" she snapped, and he held up his hands defensively.

"You still love him – you just don't want to," he said, resuming his task of cleaning the countertops. She sighed and glanced to the side, her eyes settling on the empty stool next to her.

"I'm never gonna get over him, Jackson, am I?" she asked, and he paused before giving her a comforting smile, reaching over to squeeze her shoulder.

"Maybe," he said. "Maybe you don't need to."

"I thought you and dad hated his royal egoness?" she asked, smiling slightly, and Jackson rolled his eyes.

"Nah, not hate – we just didn't like how much he hurt you. But truth is, Miles, all the other guys you've dated since him? None of 'em have worked out quite as well, and none of 'em have ever been an actual _boyfriend_. So maybe for that I'm grateful to the ego king," he said thoughtfully. He winked at her. "He's really made my job of 'overprotective older brother' a heck of a lot easier."

"I'm sure," she said, rolling her eyes. She looked back over to the boardwalk, where Parker was flirting with a blonde in a bikini. She sighed, frowning as she looked past him to the trees and sky. Maybe Jackson was right. Maybe she wasn't ever supposed to get over…

Her eyes widened as she saw Lilly and Oliver finally approach, an all too familiar blonde walking between them.

"Jake."


	5. Twenty One

**Series:** iPod Shuffle Challenge

**Fandom:** Hannah Montana

**Character / Pairing Focus:** Jake Ryan x Miley Stewart

**Rating:** K Plus / PG / All Ages

**Notes:** Set years in the future.

**Disclaimer:** _Hannah Montana_ and all respective properties are © Disney Inc. Megan D. (Veritas Found) does not, has never, nor will ever own _Hannah Montana_. Megan D. also does not own the line about love being "growing older-apart/up-together", which can be found in the movie _Down to You_.

_**Twenty One (performed by Phil Vassar)**_

_I've still got that wild streak you love – but I'm not the man I was_

_But I think I like me better now than when I was twenty-one_

…

_Woah, age does change us – and it's a good thing that it does_

_It pays the wages, and I can't believe how far I've come_

_From when I was twenty-one_

Photo albums were funny things, he'd decided long ago. They let you glimpse the past, allowing you to see how you once were – for better or worse. You could clearly see how things had been while keeping the perspective you currently held, seeing without – or maybe with – a bias just the kind of person you once were.

Jake Ryan had to admit: he didn't always like the man he used to be, the one who was shown in some of the older albums.

There he was, his fifteen-year-old self on a beach in southern California, back turned stubbornly and face set hard against a gorgeous brunette only a few paces behind him. He looked so enraged, but all he could see were the tears pouring down Miley's face and the heartbroken look in her eyes. He hadn't wanted to keep the photo, but Lilly had made him. Scrawled on a piece of paper slipped next to the photo in her flowery cursive said, "To remember the next time you want to be a doughnut." It hadn't been a complete failsafe, but it had ended a lot of their fights sooner than they would have had he not had that painful reminder of how much he had once been capable of hurting her.

But then, below it, shone a bit of the man he had always been: his seventeen-year-old self, carrying the same brunette piggy-back style through the aisles of a Malibu street fair on a gloomy afternoon. The storm had come sudden and quick, catching all of the venders completely off their guard in its intensity. While all around them people had rushed to find cover and protect their goods, the girl had hopped on his back and laughed as he ran them through the rain. They had just enjoyed the freak storm, relishing in the time together while their friends called to them from the pagoda they had taken cover under, chiding them for goofing off in the storm. Lilly had snapped that photo as well, initially intending to show them how idiotic they looked – until she had seen their faces, how completely and unabashedly in love they looked. Scrawled beside that photo: "To remember why you shouldn't want to be a doughnut."

Their blonde, sometimes-ditzy friend had compiled this entire album, a gift at their wedding nearly twenty years ago. Its photos started back in eighth grade, that first year he'd met them, and carried up until just before the wedding. "To remember how far you've come and why you should never ever cop out," Lilly had explained when they'd seen the notes written throughout the scrapbook-like album. "You two are perfect for each other, Jake Ryan, and this just helps prove why."

They weren't always his favorite years, to be honest. He had been, as Miley loved to word it, a major heel back when they'd first met. His movie star ego had gotten in the way more often than he liked to admit, but…well, she had put up with it – to an extent. She had believed in the him he wanted to be, the him she knew he could be. She had been patient, had waited for him to stop being such a doughnut and grow up, and then she had been there when he returned.

Granted, he wasn't the only one who had been a heel. She had had her moments, as well – like the one depicted by the shot of her dressed in a blue alien suit. He had had his ego issues, and she had had her jealousy issues – though she'd rather have teeth pulled than ever admit that's what it really was. Still, they had worked around it, because – in the end – that's what love was. It wasn't growing older and growing apart: it was growing up and growing together.

A few flips of a page later led him to a last-minute addition Lilly had made shortly after their wedding, a capture taken at the reception. A shot of their first dance, Miley looking stunning in her white dress as he held her pressed so close to him they almost looked one. They were both barely into their twenties at the time, and a part of him couldn't get past how young they looked. Young, but happy – a happiness that had carried them through years of marriage and three children. Yes, there were times they wanted to kill each other – but that happiness was always there, and it always came back. It wasn't storybook, fairytale romance: it was a real love, the kind you had to work on but was so worth it in the end. The kind of love fifteen-year-old Jake had acted out in B-rate movies but could never really hope to understand. The kind of love forty-two-year-old Jake had thrived on for years with an older version of that beaming brunette littering the album in his lap.

"Ok, look, this has gone on long enough, Jake!" he jumped at the voice, looking up with wide eyes to see his wife standing in the doorway to their study with her arms folded primly over her chest. Her entire posture screamed out how uncomfortable she was, a clear sign she was still angry at him for…what had they been arguing about, again? "I don't…what?"

He put the album down on the desk and stood, smiling softly at her as he made his way across the room to stand before her. He took her hands, unfolding her arms as she squirmed beneath his stare. She was still angry, but he couldn't remember why – or why it even mattered.

"I love you, Miley Rae Ryan," he said, and her eyes widened as she looked back to him. Her head was still ducked, and something about the way her eyes looked beneath those lashes made him love her all the more. "And I agree with you one hundred percent: this _has_ gone on long enough."

"Don't make that face at me, mister," she said petulantly, though he could tell by the slight quirk of a smile her heart wasn't really in it. "I'm still mad at you."

"I'm not mad at you," he said, pulling her closer and kissing her forehead, "but I am sorry."

"I'm not the one you need to apologize to," she mumbled, rolling her eyes. "Jo's still very upset her daddy forgot to pick her up today."

"Then I suppose her daddy should march straight up to her room right now and apologize profusely for letting it slip his mind," he said, and she smiled slightly.

"And I suppose her mommy should apologize to her daddy in case she really did forget to mention she wouldn't be able to do it because of a Hannah thing?" she asked, and he shook his head as he grinned.

"I'm sure you told me, Miles," he said. He kissed her, giving her an extra squeeze before he stepped back. "I'll go make amends with Joelle now."

"Just don't cave and let her have cookies again, all right? Dinner will be done soon, and I don't want her appetite ruined because daddy had to suck up to her," Miley said, and he feigned an innocent look.

"Who, me? Miley Rae Ryan, I will have you know that my willpower is _much_ stronger than my six-year-old daughter's," he said, and she laughed as she poked his chest, dancing just out of reach of his grasping hands.

"Sure it is, Zombie Slayer," she joked, heading back towards the kitchen. "Ten minutes 'til dinner!"

"Yes, dear!" he called, laughing after her as he made his way to the stairs. He paused at the bottom of the staircase, glancing at the many frames adorning the wall along it. His eyes settled on their most recent family portrait, taken just a few months before shortly after Joelle's birthday. Looking at the laughing faces and silly expressions, he had to smile at his wife's decision to use one of the extras instead of the fancy, proper shot; the antics displayed in the photo portrayed their family so much better than the usual posed, studio works. There was their youngest, laughing with her arms raised towards her brother as she sat in her mom's lap. Their oldest, sixteen-year-old Mark, was on the other side of the frame, making faces at Joelle and causing her to laugh all the harder. Their middle child, thirteen-year-old Rebekah, was sharing an exasperated look with her father; he remembered sharing the thought with her: "Would you all please cut it out so we can get out of here?"

The scene was so blazingly familial, and something he knew his fifteen-year-old self would have never dreamed possible. Fifteen-year-old him never really saw anything beyond the next movie deal or _Zombie High_ episode, anyway.

Still, as he made his way up the stairs he couldn't help but send up a quiet prayer of thanks that he wasn't that same fifteen-year-old – for lack of a better term – idiot. The him he was now, the one who loved Saturdays in the park with his kids and spending Sundays between church services curled on the couch with his wife, couldn't ask for anything more.


	6. Molly

**Series:** iPod Shuffle Challenge

**Fandom:** Hannah Montana

**Character / Pairing Focus:** Jake Ryan x Miley Stewart

**Rating:** K Plus / PG / All Ages

**Notes:** Set in the future.

**Disclaimer:** _Hannah Montana_ and all respective properties are © Disney Inc. Megan D. (Veritas Found) does not, has never, nor will ever own _Hannah Montana_.

_**Molly (performed by John Denver)**_

_I'm reading Molly's letter_

_The ink is fading_

_And the page is turning yellow_

_Long ago, I promised Molly_

_Don't you know I…_

_I will close my eyes and go to her_

"Jake! We need you on stage in ten minutes!"

His head lifts at the call, and he waves to show the stagehand he's heard her. But he settles back in his chair, looking at the faded letter in his hand with wistful eyes. The page is yellow with time, and the ink stands out in stark contrast; it's creased to the point of tearing in some places, the folded lines defined long ago from all the times he'd pull it out of his wallet. The date was stamped a good three years ago, the last of the daily letters he'd received from…

They had never had an easy relationship.

It doesn't help that he's a movie star (well, movie-and-stage star, given his current role on Broadway, of all places) and she's a singing sensation (all these years later, and Hannah Montana's star burns as bright as ever).

It doesn't help that he can't quite say no, and – every time – his career always seemed to trump her (never, in his heart, but…). It doesn't help that she refused to leave her friends and family behind to chase him all over the globe (she said once she couldn't live like that, so out-of-boxes and temporary). It doesn't help that every time he promised her it was the last one, he agreed to another role as soon as filming for the first wrapped up. It doesn't help that his constant career kept him too busy to call or write, but she wrote every day.

It doesn't help that she met a man who actually could stop for her. It doesn't help that he battered her heart so badly the other man was a welcome reprieve. It doesn't help that she sent him this letter, three years ago to the day, begging him to prove he was someone worth waiting for.

It doesn't help that he couldn't.

"Jake! Five minutes!" the stagehand calls, and he closes his eyes as his hand fists around the letter. He knows he has to get out there, but…here, in this chair surrounded by his memories, he finds he doesn't really want to. He finds, in his mind, he's back in Malibu, watching the sun set with his arms wrapped around the most amazing girl he's ever known, the only girl he's ever loved. He finds he likes it there, instead of the reality.

Instead of her being on that beach with someone else, happily married with a baby on the way (he still reads every article written about Hannah Montana, and Oliver keeps him updated on her).

Instead of him avoiding another _Wicked_ rehearsal in New York, an entire continent away from her (she knows he's there; she was there for his opening night – as Hannah, of course).

Instead of them, apart (for good).


End file.
